"Manikawan could have gone on with Mookoomahn and saved herself. He went to you and told you of our need. He did well, but he did it mainly to save himself. It was the instinct of self-preservation that gave him inspiration to accomplish it. But she remained, and remaining she gave me the only food that fell to her arrow, while she starved. That was divine unselfishness--divine sacrifice."
Stepping to the side of Manikawan's lifeless body, he lifted and laid aside the skin robe which covered her face, then kneeling at her side, with tears upon his cheeks, he continued:
"Manikawan, your skin was red, but your soul was as white as the driven snow that covers the desolate land of your people. Your features are shrunken with starvation and suffering, but still they are beautiful, for they reflect the beautiful, unselfish soul which they once sheltered.
"Your lips smile. Did you see the glory of heaven as you passed from us--a thousand times more beautiful than the brilliant aurora or the gorgeous sunsets that glorify the skies of this land of awful desolation where you existed? Did you see the light of the Eternal City shining through its gates when they were opened to receive you?"
As though in answer to Shad's question the last rays of the setting sun dropped through the open top of the lodge and rested upon the upturned face of the dead Indian maiden in a bright, illuminating glow.
"Manikawan, you sacrificed your life to duty and to human sympathy. You died a Christ-like death, and your sacrifice shall not be wasted. Your body is dead, but your spirit still lives.
"So long as the breath of life is in me, Manikawan, I shall never forget your example of patience and encouragement and self-effacement. It has built for me new ideals. It has taught me that there are other things to live for than the mere attainment of pleasure and the gratification of selfish desires.
"You were an Indian, Manikawan, and the world would have called you a pagan and a savage. But you have pointed out to me the way to a nobler and better life."
Shad arose and resumed his seat. He had spoken in a voice of tense earnestness, and for a little while all sat in awed silence. Then Ed Matheson began to sing, and the others joined him:
"Rock of Ages, cleft for me,